


Weston Affairs

by EarlHound



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-01 13:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6521686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarlHound/pseuds/EarlHound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Vincent and Diederich were students at Weston College.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> At the moment I'm only writing about Vincent and Diedrich but I'll probably include other relationships as well. (hmm Double Charles maybe? maybe even Edward and Greenhill... if you have any requests please let me know! )

Diedrich sat rigid in his seat trying to decipher the scambled alphabet on the paper before him. 'What use is it learning a dead language anyway?' he thought to himself as he repeated the foreign words over and over in his head. A cheerful laugh interrupted his concentration. It's sound light and airy, seemingly innocent, but Diedrich knew that it was laced with evil. It's owner: Vincent Phantomhive.

"Anything you'd like to share Phantomhive?" the teacher asked without turning from a latin poem he was busy copying onto the blackboard. "No, sir." Vincent replied cooly, leaning back into his chair which threatened to knock onto the desk behind. "Very well then." the teacher said turning a few pages of his book "turn to page 90."

After reading tedious poems the class eagerly packed away their books and headed for their afternoon break. Diedrich, occupied with stuffing bundles of paper into his bag, felt something tap him on the shoulder. "Hey." called a sweet voice. Diedrich turned to see a suspiciously bright smile from Vincent. "What do you want." he huffed. 

"Look!" Vincent exclaimed and grabbed both of Diedrich's shoulders to turn him to the back of the classroom. Before he could push him away, he saw. White light poured from the windows, illuminating the tired wooden desks. Specks of dust no longer invisible, they spiralled and floated peacefully even though the air was still. Diedrich had almost forgot, it was now the height of summer.

"Let's have lunch outside today." Vincent said with gleaming eyes.

"But, there's nowhere to sit." 

The Earl pulled a comically displeased face. "You're forgetting who I am! I'm a member of the P4 aren't I?"

"Yes but I'm not so-"

He wagged a finger "No 'buts'! We'll sit in the Swan Gazebo."

"I'm not sure I'd be allowed." Diedrich protested.

"You're no fun Diedrich!" Vincent pouted. He sighed "I'll just say you're my fag, will that do? Will you come now?"

Before Diedrich could butt a word in he was already being pushed out of the classroom. "H-hey! I didn't agree to this!" he hollered digging his heels into the floor. Vincent stopped abruptly with a look of pure confusion. "Hm? Who said you had to agree?" 

Students gawped at the two boys running down the corridor. The first, smiling and laughing, and the second, not far behind, growling and shouting. "Isn't that Diedrich?" one boy whispered to his friend. "Yes, I don't think I've ever seen him so angry before, or express any emotion for that matter." they chuckled. "It must have something to do with that Phantomhive boy."

Vincent lay on a bench in the gazebo faintly panting and fanning himself with a book too heavy for the purpose. Diedrich was hunched by the gazebo entrance with his hands on his knees and loudly gasping for breaths. "You're no sportsman are you?" Phantomhive chuckled and resumed to lay the open book of his face. It took a few breaths until Diedrich replied a shaky 'no'.

"Come in." Vincent said, his voice muffled by the book. A few moments later his patience had worn thin, he slapped the book shut and offered a hand to the still hunched other Diedrich at the entrace of the gazebo. Giving up, Vincent took the boy's arm and heaved him inside, this resulted in Diedrich tripping over the step and being face down on the floor. Surprisingly, the German wasn't gripping his collar and grinding his teeth as usual. Instead, he simply rolled onto his back and rested his hands on his stomach. For the first time since Vincent had known him, Diedrich looked peaceful for once.

Since the gazebo was empty, Vincent lay down next to him, copying the otter-like position. Again, he wondered why the boy was not snarling at his throat, he looked to see that his eyes were closed. He propped up his upper body to gain a better look. His entire face was relaxed, his mouth slightly agape and his black hair fell beautifully; it's striking darkness and razor sharp edges complimenting the cotton white skin beneath.

Maybe it was the prevailing fragrance from the blushing pink roses which surrounded the ivory gazebo, or maybe it was the faint melodies from birds coming from trees beside the crystal lake; maybe even his own heart. Vincent wasn't sure why, but every fibre of his being led his lips to the sleeping Diedrich's. 

As expected, his pink lips were soft, as if only sweet things were uttered from them. Though, he couldn't indulge, he had already taken a step into the taboo. Anxiety and adrenaline now coursing through his veins, he pulled away. 'Thank God' he thought to himself when he saw that his dear friend was still sleeping like an angel. 

Adjusting his tired eyes to the cruelly bright summer sun, Diedrich blinked and regained his vision. Everything was the same as it were when he fell asleep. Except for one thing - Vincent was nowhere in sight.


	2. Chapter 2

Being Vincent’s fag was no easy task. At times he would call his loyal German for no reason other than to joke, his favourites being ‘oh good you’re still alive, just checking’ and simply smiling while Diedrich guessed at what he could want after calling him for the fifth time that day. At times when Vincent requested a fresh cup of tea Diedrich would jeer ‘you Englishmen, if I cut you open only tea would pour out!’ but Vincent, armed with a quick tongue would reply ‘with that idiotic logic your blood must be beer and all your organs are in fact, sausages,’ and he would then continue to claim the last laugh.

Though, no one knew quite what to make of them. Their interactions were cold and harsh, but intriguingly, beneath lay a seething heat, a raging fire visible to everyone by its presence and never displayed; in public, that is.

It was now the middle of summer and every student become occupied with cricket and listening to prodigies play the piano in the shade of their respective houses. Vincent and Diedrich were commonly found to be on the cricket field, and on this day most students halted their games to retreat under the shaded willow trees to escape the sun’s blazing rays.

Diedrich shielded his eyes from the sun, “let’s head back.” to which Vincent replied by tapping the bat on the grass a few times, “Come on, one more, one more,” he said in an irritably childish voice. So disagreeable in fact that Diedrich didn’t reply as he headed towards a nearby willow tree. Vincent simply stared before deciding to trail behind him.

Slumping beneath the shade, Diedrich rested his head against the trunk and sighed contently. ‘To think that England could be as hot as this,” he laughed. After a few moments of cherishing the cool shade he turned to see any response but Vincent was now sitting beside him and resting a pale chin on his knee, he looked blankly towards the empty playing field, perhaps deep in thought, perhaps not thinking at all.

If he were to make a move, this time with Diedrich definitely awake, would he be rejected? All that has been built up can very easily be shattered like glass, all over such a silly thing: curiosity. But, if he were not rejected, what would happen? Either way, everything would change, and it all depended on Diedrich’s reaction.

“Hey are you listening?” Diedrich called. Shifting his gaze from the vacant field and onto Diedrich’s concerned face, Vincent urged the taboo once more. He succeed in trapping him by placing his arm across the boy’s torso and feeling the cool grass beneath his fingers. Practically nose to nose, Vincent judged Diedrich’s face. He hadn’t immediately jerked away, though his body had now tensed and he had a look of sheer confusion and surprise. 

The Earl maintained a calm face and kept his eyes locked on Diedrich’s, he searched and searched in those green eyes any hint of permission. Soon enough, his gaze softened and Vincent stopped hovering around his lips and proceeded to seal a new bloom of their relationship.

And how much better this was, Diedrich made little attempt, much like when he was asleep, but Vincent knew, he knew simply from his eyes in that moment that he felt the same. Nothing could make him happier.

In a blur of movements and breaths, their first kiss had become deeper, Vincent’s hand now embraced Diedrich’s hot neck, and then Diedrich’s hand rested on the other’s waist, Vincent’s hand had now slid down to the shoulder and then to the stomach, their tongues greeted, and Vincent’s hand slid down further still, until…

Diedrich broke away with gasps and a returning look of confusion. It was as if he had been possessed and only now became aware of his surroundings, and more importantly, the prefect’s intentions.

He couldn’t face him when he said the words ‘forget this happened.’And just as he stood up, he was tugged back down by the wrist. 

“Stay.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I don't usually write smut, but I tried ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> also Vincent is really gay. That's all.

A tepid breeze rustled the dangling strings of leaves; some fell in a spiralling path and others hung on. Vincent, in his determination to not back down or even allow space for the thought of rejection to poison his mind, sat patiently waiting for Diedrich to even turn his head. He tightened his grip on the trembling wrist.  


“I won’t forget and nor will I apologise. At least look at me.” he pleaded. Before repeating, he saw the German’s face. The expression showed seemed indistinguishable between both guilt and sadness.

“This is weird.” Diedrich muttered with downcast eyes.

“Is it?” asked Vincent with hope once again in his sight. Sliding his hand down from Diedrich’s wrist to his hand, he asked again. “Is it really?”

“Yes, it is. It’s unnatural.” Diedrich said with more power to his voice. A smile crept to Vincent’s face and his other hand to where Diedrich wanted it the most. “Your body disagrees.”

The clinking of metal reached Diedrich’s ears before he could protest. Without a moment to think, his belt had been unbuckled and his trousers forcibly yanked down.

“H-hey wait.” he stuttered and to his surprise, Vincent obediently stopped. “Here.” he sighed, “If you're so embarrassed,” Vincent said while loosening his tie. 

“T-that’s not going to help.” stuttered Diedrich. 

“Of course it will.” Vincent said handing a striped tie. “Cover your eyes.”

Thankful that it was only a tie Vincent decided to take off, Diedrich did as told. Now blindfolded and defenseless, his senses became considerably sharper. He could smell the freshly cut grass, hear faint birdsong and soon enough, feel a sudden breeze.

Vincent's tongue glided sadistically slow; he found joy in erupting moans and staggered breaths from Diedrich, but he wanted more. Taking it whole and increasing pace, he was successful in erupting moans heard by no one else's ears. Stifling his voice as much as he can, Diedrich weaved his fingers into Vincent’s hair. Surprisingly quickly came a jolt, a swallow, and lips against his own.

“I hate you.” he quavered as his ‘blindfold’ became undone. Vincent propped up his chin and demanded a gaze. “You love me.” he smirked.


End file.
